


All the lovers

by 1000lux



Series: A Crown for a Beggar [8]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dorne, F/M, M/M, Wedding, political wedding, viserys finally reaches Westeros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: Viserys comes to Dorne to fullfill the pact that was made years ago.





	All the lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to either the TV show or the books.
> 
> No, I have not abandoned this series. ;) I'm still very much with it. But those who've been reading since the beginning know how long this takes.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to everyone who's still reading this! <3

"Everyone says that Prince Rhaegar was beautiful, is Viserys beautiful as well?" Arianne asks.

"Very." Oberyn answers with a smile.

"Oh, you had him!" Arianne exclaims outraged, hitting her uncle over the head, playfully.

Oberyn looks at her, smiling guiltily, "Well, I can't deny it."

"Is it true that a Dothraki khal tried to kill him by crowning him with a pot of molten gold?" She asks, both curious and slightly disgusted.

"Yes."

"Was that man really his sister's husband?"

"He sure was." Oberyn answers, amused, knowing the whole story behind it, which he's not going to reveal to his niece.

"Just... why did Daenerys let it happen? Viserys is her brother. All that remains of her own blood."

"I guess you will have the chance to ask her yourself. And him too."

"Did Daenerys resent her brother, because she realised that once her brother was crowned and wed to me, she would be doomed to spend the rest of her life sleeping in a tent and smelling like a horse?"

"Given all I have gotten to know of her that's not very likely."

"If she and her husband had succeeded, all the time our family and theirs spent planning would have been for naught!"

"Neither Daenerys nor Viserys were aware of the secret pact until I told him in Astapor. At first we thought it was too early to tell him since he didn't seem to be the most reasonable and stable type. Then we lost track of him, once he'd vanished in the Dothraki desert. Our meeting in Astapor was mere chance."

"That doesn't sound like a guy worth marrying me." Arianne raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. She can tell by the irritated wrinkle that goes over Oberyn's face that he's not agreeing with her. That he's feeling protective of that man. His person. Even his name.

"You don't understand that, niece. You've grown up entitled and protected by our family. You've known nothing but security and respect. Imagine having a name as great as Targaryen and having to live like a beggar. Afraid for your life, not knowing where you will sleep the next night and always having your great birth and the future you should have had dangling in front of you. Viserys raised Daenerys on his own. Looked out for her. He was the one who had to deal with the disdain, the mocking and the fear. It turned him bitter and paranoid. Yes, he let his anger out on his sister. But it wasn't all his fault. The poverty and the humiliation had driven him mad at a young age. Before he even came of age, he'd already made a name for himself as being foolish, arrogant and prone to erratic behaviour. The mad king's true heir. He'd become spiteful and distrusting. And he didn't believe in himself most of all. Always feeling like second-best beside his sister. His bordering aggression against his sister and all this culminated in the crowning you were talking about earlier. It changed him. For the better. The man I met in Astapor wasn't the man I had heard about. He is arrogant, yes. But he's reason to by now. He is ambitious, driven even. But he is also smart and calculating. And he looks out for those he cares about. I can't speak for the mad part. But I can promise you that he will treat you with respect. I promise that you will have a great future ahead of you at his side. And I can tell you that he is a man who has received very little love in his life. But I can also tell you that he is deserving of it. And if you choose to love him it wouldn't be wasted. But I also can't promise you that your love will be returned as you would want it."

"Are you in love with him?" she asks.

"I have deep respect for him. He's worthy of my friendship and most of all he's worthy of marrying my niece," he takes her hand into his. "something I wasn't so sure about before I met him."

****

"Tell me, little Stark girl," Viserys says. "Are you excited? I know I am."

Arya only snorts beside him, face as always impassive, if slightly condescending, still staring out into the endless ocean, as if there's something she can't wait to grasp.

"What will be the first thing you'll do once we get there?" Viserys continues his idle chatter.

She smirks at him mercilessly. "What you order me to, of course."

Viserys chuckles. "Ah, I somewhat doubt that."

"What will you do?" she asks, mildly curious at what tale of gore and pain he's planned. That's something they'd bonded early on, during their short aquaintance. Their mutual, well, bloodthirstiness. Aside from him, she is maybe the one who's lost most to the Lannisters. More even than Oberyn.

"Get married." He grins at the obvious double-take she does.

Tyrion steps beside them at the railing. "My king, Lady Stark." he greets them.

Arya's eyes follow him, dark and hollow. And, gosh, he recognizes himself so well in her, it's outright scary. He'll have to buy her something nice once they make shore. A pair of double knifes or something. Maybe Oberyn can recommend him some exotic poison she might like.

"He's not on the list." Viserys says, voice not yet losing it's playful tone, but the warning clear.

She only smiles acknowledgingly at Viserys, nodding all complacent.

And Viserys thinks, oh, that's a dangerous animal he's brought into his ranks, much more so than his dear Maneater. But then again, claws and fangs might come in handy, but you, by no means, need them to kill someone. And he's fine with dangerous, it is after all a category he considers himself to belong to. And he allows the more eccentric of his soldiers a certain amount of slack. He has no worries that she has any designs on the throne, it's easy to tell, nothing of this world has any meaning to her besides making sure a certain number of people leave it. And one thing's for sure, he's not among that number.

****

Viserys stands at the bow of the ship and reaches out his arms. Soon the three shadows that alternatingly fall over the ship, circle closer and one of them darts down, claws grabbing Viserys right off the ship.

And then he's in the air. And for now, the sea is indeed endless, but his fleet too, while it might not be endless, covers all the way to the horizon. And up here, it feels like there's nothing he won't be able to do.

****

"Is he dying?" Daario asks, stepping beside Viserys, as fresh-faced as ever, moving on the ship with the same grace he does in battle.

"You wish."

"No seriously, that stuff coming out of him looks disgusting. Maybe we should evacuate to a different ship."

Viserys throws a look over his shoulder to where Drogo is being very very sick. "Maybe you are right." he smirks.

"I heard that." comes a voice that sounds like a dying tea-kettle and not like the deep bass of the Dothraki leader.

"At least he's not deaf yet." Daario perks up. "Even though, I guess it's only a matter of time until that stuff starts coming out of his ears too."

Right on cue Drogo starts hurling again.

****

Daario moves out of the shadows, as silent as a cat. He doesn't put his arms around Viserys, just leans against the mast and looks up at the dark sky.

"You can see the stars really good here." he says.

"You could see the stars just fine in the desert too." Viserys replies.

"True. Seems different here, though, don't you think?" He tilts his head back up, as if everything up there is really so much more interesting. 

"Is there something you wanted?" Viserys asks, a little on edge, to be honest, worried beyond reason that something on their travel will go wrong and they won't after all reach the shore of Westeros.

Daario doesn't reply at first, for all implication still caught up in the stellar spectacle over their heads, when for all Viserys cares the stars could be falling down right now, as long as they don't hit his ships.

Then, taking Viserys off guard. "It's okay to be nervous. I was nervous everytime I went into the arena, back then."

"I can start worrying once we actually get there." Viserys comments offhandedly.

Daario turns his attention back on him then, finally stepping closer. "Darling, you can tell me. You know that." Even closer now, a wisp of Viserys' hair between his fingers, idly. "And if you told me you were scared out of your wits, it would not make me think less of you." A smirk crossing his face now. "I'd certainly relish a chance to dote on you a little. Hold your hand. Whisper sweet nonsense."

"Oh, you're already doing plenty of that." His mouth curls against his best intentions of staying glum.

****

They arrive in Dorne in the first hours of dawn. The first Westerosi ground Viserys' touches after nearly twenty years.

He jumps onto the sand. Finally. He feels a sudden urge to kiss the ground. Ridiculous. If at all the ground should kiss his feet, as it's one true sovereign has finally returned.

Fucking strange, to be here now. It wasn't that hard once he actually got going. No disasters on the sea, except maybe that giant shark Tenacity had grabbed straight from the sea on dropped on deck as some sort of ill-fitted gift for him. Grey Worm, luckily, had reacted very quickly and matter-of-factly, putting a spear through it, while Drogo and Daario had stared open-mouthed at the creature. And no, Viserys had not screeched when that thing dropped a few feet from him, all snapping jaws. And he sure did not jump into Maneater's arms... He might have clutched onto her a little... Tenacity at least had been properly remorseful afterwards, barely daring to show her face for the next three days, big head just darting out of the clouds from time to time, vanishing the second she realised he'd noticed her.

But, that's really beside the point. Fact is, while the past years there always was one thing or other that stopped him from starting his journey –Mostly the lack of money, soldiers and ships– Aside from their little detour in the desert and the surprise visit to Valyria, their travel went smoothly. Almost like it wasn't all that hard to get here in the first place, like there isn't an entire world that separated them from Westeros. Like he could have just gone there years ago, if he'd only tried. After preparing and preparing, and waiting and waiting, he's suddenly here now.

Just another non-descript shore. Certainly the climate in Dorne is more close to that in Meereen or any other of the desert cities, than it is to the weather he remembers from King's Landing. So this might just be any other shore in some random city. But it is Westeros. And it doesn't feel like it. After the first rush of pure adrenaline, it doesn't really feel real any longer. And looking at the cities he's taken across the Narrow Sea, he has to remember that there are now six kingdoms for him to take. Well, technically he only has to defeat the Lannisters and maybe look at the North seperately. And then there's also Stannis Baratheon, who might not have a kingdom but sure has an army.

Dany looks around with equally mixed-feelings expressed in her face. Her gaze catches Viserys'.

"I don't remember a thing." she says, regarding their surrounding with the same alienation and disbelief he's feeling.

"Sure, you were too small. And we never were in Dorne before."

He whistles his dragons down to the ground and whispers to them in soft tones, mostly about how they are not allowed to fly too far or eat any of the population, while he rubs his face against their scales, seeking calm and reassurance.

****

They are picked up by a big procession of soldiers in Dornish livery and colorfully dressed nobles. Right in front of them Oberyn, who sweeps Viserys into a hug that lifts him off the ground. Then kisses him on the mouth once.

"You made it, my friend." Oberyn gleams at him.

"Finally." Viserys grabs his hand, pulling him into a hug again.

"Now it is time that they learn to grieve as we did."

They exchange one more look, then Oberyn is all charming smile again and Viserys is officially introduced to the Dornish court. Among them Oberyn's daughters, who are all fierce, feisty warriors, who eye him with different degrees of curiosity and amusement.

****

His wife to-be, is a woman with the complexion of her uncle, long dark curls falling down her back. She's beautiful, he'll give her that. He'd have married an ugly princess as well, even though he likes the prestige that goes with a beautiful queen. Though, when he's done with this war, there won't be anymore need for him to impress anyone, so it doesn't matter either way.

"Arianne. It's a pleasure." Viserys takes her hand and presses a kiss to it.

Arianne is stunned by his beauty that seems aetheral. She doesn't even comment on him not using a honorific. "Viserys Targaryen. I've heard a lot about you. Not very much in your favor." She smiles at him challengingly.

"Well, I can't say I've heard anything about you." He returns with a charming smile, not fitting his words. "Only from your uncle of course, but you know how family is. They always exagerate."

Arianne lets out a surprised huff. Well, fair enough. If he'd tried to sweet-talk her for his purposes and for the sake of this alliance, trying to take her for a fool, she'd been disgusted and to be honest disappointed. She always likes a challenge. He might not love her now, but she would look forward to seeing how long he could keep it up.

****

The preparations for the wedding are fully in progress. Drogo was aware of this when they got here. Viserys' wedding. It shouldn't bother him at all... given that he's already sharing Viserys with the mercenary. It does, though, on some level. He can't quite put it into words yet. But there's a certain tightness in his chest when he thinks about the things to come.

****

He is going to marry her and he will sire children with her. Many Targaryen children. He isn't going to love her. But she is his ticket to Dorne and family of Oberyn, so he will treat her as his queen, as it becomes her. And if she is anything like her brother, he will also be able to respect her. A love marriage had been never in the cards for him. And to be honest the fact that he has a lover at all (not to mention two), who's with him not for money or fame, but out of love, that's not something he saw coming either. 

"To think that in a different world it could have been you and me, sister." he tells Dany with a smirk, as five seamstresses circle around him, fitting his ceremonial wedding attire in the colors of the house Targaryen.

Dany snorts. "Yes, if you hadn't sold me off to a Dothraki khalasar before that."

"Ah, for all the best reasons." It's nice that they can joke about this. 

She smirks right back at him. »At least, I guess I can take comfort in the fact that you sold yourself off the same way you did me.«

»Have to work with the currency I got, don't I?« He winks at her.

»To think we'd finally end up here.« she switches the topic, sobering them both.

»Don't tell me you didn't believe in me?« he teases, but there's a slight unease in his voice.

»No, I did, eventually.« She meets his eyes. »Only, still... I could not imagine it truly ever beginning. I guess, I should have, after all we did.«

»But you are right... It's truly begun now, hasn't it?«

»It's time.«

"Yes." His eyes come to rest on the seven eggs that are in the room with Rhaego. "And they will hedge soon."

****

Daario knows this is only on paper. It's for ambition. This Dornish princess is no competition for him, unlike her brother could be. And of course, the ever present Dothraki. Who should by now have been no more than a bad memory, but nevertheless seems to loom over him like a shadow, on that path they seem to be more and more treading together now.

****

»Are you worried?" Drogo asks, stepping beside Viserys in the room where he's waiting to any minute step outside to say his vows to his bride. 

Viserys snorts. »Why would I be? It's a business contract. Are you going to be bored? It's not quite going to be a Dothraki wedding...«

»Depends whether I kill someone at the after-party, won't it?« Drogo smirks at him.

An official in Dornish livery shortly comes in, informing Viserys that it is time.

Viserys looks at the curtain separating him from the crowd and his bride, then looks at Drogo again. »Say it again.«

»Say what?«

»Call me what you call her.«

»My wife?« The smirk on Drogo's face makes Viserys ram his elbow into Drogo's side, which the other insultingly enough takes no notice of, but his smile softens. »My moon and stars.« 

Viserys pulls Drogo into a fierce kiss, then he's out of the room.

****

Varys regards the olive-skinned, voluptuous bride with her long dark curls, and her lithe, pale groom, with the white gold hair. Another Martell-Targaryen wedding. Once more that alliance is renewed. As it always was.

He let Oberyn Martell take them across the Narrow Sea to Viserys Targaryen's court because he believed it was the best option. He meant it when he said that Tyrion was the last hope for the future of Westeros. But that's not really true, is it? Him and Tyrion, while they can be helpful, for whoever they choose to endorse, they are only small, unimportant chess pieces in this large game. And the truth is, this young ruler in front of them would have reached this shore with or without them. 

Tyrion had nowhere to go and very little choice and Varys just wanted to leave. Even though, they could have vanished once they'd made shore in Meereen. He does not believe Oberyn Martell would have stopped them. But, why? Why did Varys let himself be convinced that Viserys was the king to throw his allegiance in with? Simply because all other options were depleted? Or is it really as simple as him having joined in with the would-be king he thinks will win in the end? He does believe Viserys will win. Varys could make his life a lot harder, would he work against him. But could he stop him? He doesn't think so. And he doesn't intend to try. The question that remains, though, is, what will the rise of this king mean? Will it mean change? Or will it mean going back to the days of the past? Varys has seen his fair share of the young man's ruling in the desert cities. And he's undecided, where Tyrion has thrown his lot in with him after only a short time. Varys had known Viserys' father, unlike Tyrion, who had been a child back then, away from him, at Casterly Rock, not like his older brother who had watched the full extend and acted in the only way possible. 

Varys sees a lot of Aerys in Viserys, more than he would care to. But then, for a Targaryen Viserys is maybe almost temperate. He is of course no Rhaegar. But then, Rhaegar didn't exactly prove to be a great leader, after all, if maybe a great warrior. And it's not great warriors they need on the throne. Robert was the best example for that. Not people with too many ideals either, to continue with the example of Ned Stark. Not too little of it either, though. And the gods help them all, if Cersei manages to keep her breed on the throne. But just for lack of better choice, if Viserys is the right one, he doesn't know. Varys will have to see.

****

Viserys regards her in the moonlight as they lie beside each other naked. He thinks for a moment that she's already fallen asleep, but then her eyes reflect the moonlight.

"Now, that we are husband and wife, I think I owe you the truth." He starts to speak. "Whatever questions you have, I will answer them truthfully. And whatever conclusion you draw from those truths, I will always treat you with the respect befitting a queen and I doubt you would allow anything less."

"Why did your sister let her husband try to kill you?"

"Because I disrespected and threatened her. Not just on one occassion. But on that night I was very drunk and threatened her and her unborn child."

"Hm." She props herself up on her ellbow, looking at him, not exactly shocked or disgusted but more intrigued. "Why didn't you just lie about it?"

"Who tells you I'm not lying?" Viserys smirks at her, well pleased with her strength and unflappability.

"But she forgave you. And you forgave her." she adds, questioningly.

"I changed."

They fall silent again. 

"What do you want from this world?" Arianne then asks.

"Justice. Power. Happiness." He pauses. "What do you want from this world?"

"I think, pretty much the same." She meets his eyes, fierce and unapologetic. "I'm not going to lie to you, I want to be queen of the seven kingdoms. I wasn't forced or bullied into this marriage. I know what you're going to do. And I want it. I want to be the most powerful woman in Westeros."

"There's no need to hide these thoughts from me. I respect your ambition as it accords with mine." He does indeed. And he thinks he might come to like her. What he doesn't tell her, though, is that the most powerful woman in Westeros is always going to be his sister.

****

They don't like each other. Or maybe they do, it's hard to tell by now. Too much has happened. Their fates are too interwoven, by the one man that they both have signed their fates to. They cannot leave him and so they cannot leave each other. And in this they are closer to each other than to anyone else. Because as much as they might despise each other, they both feel the same way. They both are drawn to him for the same reasons. They are both caught in the same trap. And right now they are hurting in the same way. And that is an understanding they both feel. And for now the other is as close to Viserys as they can get. The man himself not between them for now. And still the motions feel as natural as they've started too become with each time Viserys would claim this tribute of them. Would fuse the three of them together in a union that was to signify that they were all in this together. That no choice would happen. That they would have to accept that.

And it feels slightly unnatural and at the same time not, when Drogo reaches for a handful of Daario's braids, and the other follows only too easily. Self-assured even in this, as he let's Drogo put his hands on him. 

That's something he's always hated the other man for. That assuredness. He knows Daario's let Viserys fuck him, something Drogo would still not feel comfortable with. But this man. He gives. He gives with a offhandedness that refuses to let anything like shame or doubt touch him. 

And as Drogo kisses him, he remembers that fight, that honestly feels like a lifetime ago. When he lost for the first time. When this man nearly killed him. Only stopped by Viserys. Drogo snorts into the kiss. This man is stronger than him. The better fighter. And he's going to submit to Drogo. That much is evident in his leisured smile, the way he leans into Drogo. Indulgent. Unhurried. 

And still Drogo feels painfully akin to him right now. Because they both know why they're doing this. Because Viserys is not here. Because they are both losing him. Piece by piece. Not totally. Not forever. But they're both acknowledging here that it's never going to be the same again. That it's never going to be as it was in Yunkai, in Meereen, and the time before, that only Drogo himself knows. Maybe it should be easier for him, because he had to learn to share Viserys a lot sooner, after having him to his own before. But maybe not. There's no doubt that Viserys loves them both. They are not going to share him with Arianne. They're going to share him with Westeros. His one true love. The one he's been mooning after since they met him. 

They touched ground here now. After all this time. After all the talk that could have been mere figment. But they both knew the deep hunger in Viserys could never be stilled, never be contained. And there will be a war. That's at least something. They both relish the fight. But after that –and they both know there will be an after that– after that, they will have to share Viserys with seven kingdoms. And their beloved beggar king, the most outrageous among the outrageous, the swayer, manipulator, dark and fierce and beautiful, he will have found his destination. His vocation. And they will get him there. And they will stay, because they cannot do anything but. But he will not belong to them anymore. He will not need them anymore. And it is hard to take.

And Daario, as if feeling the turmoil inside him as acutely, which probably he does, pulls him down onto the bed, on top of him, parts his legs for Drogo to settle between. And takes his next thoughts with a kiss that purges all thoughts from Drogo's mind. And that is, after all, the purpose of this execise.

And there's a slight breathless laugh from Daario, one hand against Drogo's chest. Not pushing away, just keeping him there.

The hand feels steadying. Drogo for a moment looks out to the balcony into the silky, dark-blue night. They are both here in this world they don't know. So far away from home, it feels like the sky is the only thing that's still the same.

And when his eyes stray back to the man under him, he sees that Daario too is looking outside at the nightsky. Their eyes meet shortly as Daario becomes aware of the gaze trained on him.

Drogo leans down and covers Daario's mouth with his own again.

The night has still many hours. And neither of them is willing to sleep tonight, with Viserys somewhere in this palace, far away from them.

So, if, for now the only thing that feels familiar to them is the sky and the other, then so be it.

****

It is Grey Worm who stands guard in front of his room, when Viserys walks out in the middle of the night. 

"My friend." Viserys' face lights up.

"My king." Grey Worm nods, returning the smile.

Viserys leans against the closed door, staying with him a bit, his walk outside having had no true direction anyway.

"Westeros, huh?"

"So it seems." Grey Worm replies.

"Are you happy?" A pause. "Would you have wanted me to stay?"

"I'm free," Grey Worm says simply. "Had I not wanted to go with you, I wouldn't have."

"Yes, but would you have wanted me to stay? Just forget about Westeros?" Tyrion's voice rings in the back of his head. Not for his own sake, but for the people who he expected to follow him and who did without being asked.

"It's not about what I would have wanted. I know you couldn't have. There would have been no peace for you, ever."

"I'm glad you're with me, for what it's worth."

"I'm glad to be with you."

****

They return to court in the morning. Arianne on his arm, regal as a queen is supposed to be.

Maybe he can admit it to himself now, there was a slight worry in him that she might hate him, be disgusted by him. When this shouldn't matter to him at all, either way. Much more than he was worried about potentially disliking her, which wouldn't have mattered to him at all.

But, well, maybe he's gotten too used to being around people who like him. 

Because that's the point. There's a lot he can say about his life so far, but one thing's for sure. He's not alone any longer. He has people who care for him, when being loved was never something he aspired to. Even at the very young age of seven, his father had already taught him that being loved was not in the cards for him.

He wonders briefly, if he's lost his bite, now that he's seemingly become human enough for other people to see something other in him than volatility and danger. But he can only laugh inwardly. No, that's never going to happen. He might love the people gathered in this room with him. But that doesn't mean he's not still capable of the same searing, destructive hate he's felt for most of his life. Because despite the current him being uncharacteristically happy, for quite a while now, he still feels it. What he did in Braavos wasn't that cathartic, it was necessary, but who imagines that a little piece of symbolic retribution will undo all beforegone hurts, well, that one is just fooling himself.

He walks toward his friends and family, awaiting his entrance in proper protocol. His sister. His lovers. His friends. And those people he isn't quite sure about yet.

And Grey Worm is right. There was no choice to be made. And no matter how overwhelmed he might feel for now, he's finding his feet quickly again, he's always had.

And this war is his and his alone. He's earned it. He's earned to finally have peace once it's finished. And he will be damn-well cursed, if he gives his enemies the pleasure of not enjoying every single second of it.

****

"You should stay here when we leave." Viserys tells her.

She gives him an unimpressed look. "Shouldn't a queen stand beside her king? Don't think I don't know about your lovers, so if that's an attempt to make sure you can go your own way–"

Viserys snorts. "I don't care whether you know about my lovers. They were there before you and they are not going anywhere. I thought we'd already moved past the point of pretending that this was a marriage for love. I'm talking about the war that is to come, my queen."

"The war that's as much revenge for my family as for yours." she gives back.

"You lost an aunt and cousins you never knew. I lost everything. Believe me it is not the same. And you know nothing of war. And the battlefield of this one won't be Dorne, so you will be save here."

"Your sister is travelling with you. Are you not scared for her safety?"

"My sister's been through worse. And this is her war as much as mine."

"Yes, I understand. Oberyn told me about how your grew up. But–"

"You understand?" Viserys says scathingly. "What exactly? Have you ever gone hungry, even just for a day?"

"No."

"Have you ever watched a loved one die?"

"No."

"Then you don't understand." His voice softens, "But you don't have to. It's enough that I do. And that is why you will stay here. The war that's to come will be ugly and vicious. There's no need for both of us to be used to it, once we ascend the throne."

****

They're watching the sunset rise over the ocean, lounging on the vast balcony adjoining Viserys' chambers. It's maybe a little early for wine, but then, that's never bothered either him or Tyrion.

Tomorrow they will leave Dorne. Right now the last preparations are made, the ships laden with new provisions and Dornish soldiers. Among them the sandsnakes, who insisted on coming.

"We're here." Tyrion says. "We're officially in Westeros. From here on we'll only go North. You're in the big game now. Are you scared?"

Viserys smiles and shakes his head. "No." Not any longer, only briefly for those few moments he would barely admit to himself. He's never been scared of a battle before (even though he's never actually fighting).

"Only idiots and mad men wouldn't fear what's to come."

"Yes. Yes, I would say so." His smile broadens. "You said it yourself, I'm very close to achieving something I have wanted since I knew how to want. I'm not afraid of this war. I'm looking forward to it. It don't know what's to come. Maybe one day I will say the price was too high. But that day is not today."

**Author's Note:**

> I ship Drogo/Daario so hard all of a sudden, I don't even know. xD Don't worry that doesn't change their feelings for Viserys, I just had to get this out there.


End file.
